


Loyal Service

by GlimmerGuts



Category: Original Work
Genre: Kelpies, Knotting, M/M, Monster sex, Monsters, Original Character(s), Smut, Stomach Bulge, Teratophilia, human/monster
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:48:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24949456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlimmerGuts/pseuds/GlimmerGuts
Summary: sometimes when ur horny u gotta use ur bodyguard before ur satisfied. no? just him? a'ight.to be adapted into a comic in the near future.
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Comments: 1
Kudos: 27





	Loyal Service

A sharp, short whistle breaks the silence of the night, calling forth a massive beast from the river nearby. The cold waters rush up onto the bank, swirling into a shape resembling a horse before dripping away to reveal the muscular steed. A kelpie, black as night with piercing red eyes, plods to the stable whence the noise came. His coat shimmers in the moonlight, a red sheen glistening on the fins along his forelegs, deep green weeds tangled in his mane. He is unsurprised by what he finds in the quiet building: his master on his back, aroused and splayed over a hay bale that he's thrown a blanket over, cock erect and ass slightly agape, all ready for him with a sultry look in his eyes. The room is illuminated only by a couple of lanterns, casting his slender body in a rather attractive light. 

"Alasdair…" his name rolls off the man's tongue with a hint of huskiness to his voice. 

"Troist, you know we aren't supposed to do this." Though, he will admit, the human is the only one he sees this kind of action with.

"Oh don't act like ye don't enjoy it too." He's right, it is pleasurable to mount him. He's tight, can take almost his entire length, can last for hours, not to mention the sounds he makes… Trying to argue with him is futile, and he's gone through the trouble of getting himself prepped. Alasdair can feel his dick hanging out, further emphasizing that they both want this.

The kelpie shakes his head and trots up to his master, starting off with nuzzling his dick, using his lips to toy with it. He laps at it and takes it into his mouth, careful of his teeth, bobbing his head around the large member. Troist has evidently been playing with himself for a while before this, the taste of cum coating his cock. The man hums with pleasure, unable to keep himself from rocking his hips, biting the back of his finger while watching the kelpie through half-lidded eyes. His red fauxhawk bounces each time he tips his head back, violet eyes glistening with lust. Alasdair keeps toying with his master, thick lips and large tongue slowly but surely bringing him closer to another climax. He brings his head all the way down and cups his lip around his balls as well, then begins to suck, tugging on the jewels in a way he knows gets the human wound up. Troist gasps and lets out a breathy moan, his free hand trying to grab anything he can of the hay beneath him but only ending up with a wad of fabric. The beast can feel his own cock twitching, eager to be used, flared head bobbing in the air. He stamps his hooves, huffs, frustrated that there's nothing for him to rub against. Impatient and knowing the man to have far more stamina than he should, he forgoes trying to suck him off, pulling his lips off his length with an audible pop. The human looks up, seemingly confused until two hooves come stomping down on either side of him, the horse's thick, rippled, and knotted length resting on his stomach. Alasdair rubs it against him, Troist returning the action, grinding his own member against it while reaching a hand down to feel along it. He starts at the flared head, the tips of his fingers brushing over it, one circling around his opening there before slowly pressing into the hole, just big enough for it to fit. He slides his finger in and out, the kelpie letting out soft noises as he does. After a moment he pulls back out and lightly circles it again, then moves to feel around the flare. The ridges of it make for a very unique texture, and a feeling he absolutely loves when it's inside him. He trails down the slope of it before placing his palm flush with the member and stroking along as much as he can reach. There's prominent veins all along it, his fingers following some as he moves. He can feel every twitch, his desire to be inside that's being overruled by a need for permission.

"Fuck me," he whispers, reaching up and running a hand through the beast's unkempt mane. Alasdair pulls back, rubbing the head against his hole until Troist reaches down and guides it in, a loud, drawn out moan escaping his lips. He wraps his legs up over the beast's thighs, urging him to keep going, to put it all in. He stops about halfway, just as he always does, and the man whines.

"More."

"I don't want to hurt you."

"Ye won't, I've taken bigger before. More."

"Troist I-"

"Moooore."

He does this every time, insists his limits be pushed, but he can't physically force the kelpie to go further. He tries, pulls on him with his legs, but the stallion stands firm.

"Trust meee, it'll be fiiine."

"And if it's not?"

"Then that's on me."

Alasdair sighs. He'll keep begging until he gets what he wants, and the only way to get him to stop would be to disprove him. He eases in more, Troist eagerly watching the bulge in his gut rise. He anticipates any sound of pain, but finds he's in up to the knot and hasn't been met with anything except bliss. The human is as relaxed as he's ever seen him, brushing his fingers along the raised area of his abdomen. The kelpie stays still a moment, taking in the view, feeling his tight ass around him. He starts moving slowly, gently, keeping a keen eye on the man's face for any sign that he should stop. He's moaning softly, cursing under his breath, wholly enjoying it. Alasdair bends his neck down and nuzzles his face, heavy breaths hot in his ear. Troist lazily rubs his legs over the steed's, one hand trailing over a muscular foreleg while the other rests on his stomach. The beast moves at a steady pace, not quite thrusting, just rocking. After getting comfortable and feeling assured he's not causing pain, he speeds up, pressing in harder. The man moans, a chorus of soft noises falling from his lips. "Faster," he whispers, "harder." The stallion doesn't know how much longer he'll last, knows that by the end of this he'll be exhausted, that it's going to be a while before his master is satisfied. He also knows these chances to give in to his carnal desires are few and far between. Brushing aside his hesitation, he obeys, flared cock brushing along the human's hole. Troist raises his legs and pulls them back, urging the beast to push his knot in, to let him take those last few inches. Alasdair hears him, wants to feel his knot inside him, but still keeps stopping short. He's dripping pre, won't last much longer, and it seems the man is too. He's got one arm wrapped around his leg and reaching down to toy with his own manhood, foreskin bunching over the head on his up-strokes. The other arm is at his calf, clinging onto it. He begs for cum in him, not that he wasn't going to get that already. The steed bends his neck down again, breaths heavy, but not quite panting like his human is. Troist's entire body is being rocked with each thrust, every slam down. He peaks before the stallion, crying his name out as thick, hot ropes of cum decorate the both of them. Alasdair keeps going through the man's climax, fondly nudging his face at his name. A few moments and quick thrusts later, he slams in, forcing his girthy knot in before flooding his master's ass with heated semen. He stays still a bit as his balls empty, head pressed to the side of the human's face.

"Another round?" the steed inquires, knowing full and well what the answer is. Troist nods, panting too heavily to give a verbal answer. He takes a few steps back, tugging to pull himself out, cum so deep inside that only a small trail follows and drips out. The man allows himself to lay there for a bit, catching his breath before flipping over, sitting on top of his knees such that his ass is raised. He grabs what little cheeks he has and spreads them, looking expectantly over his shoulder. Alasdair nuzzles up his back and over his shoulder, planting his front hooves up on the hay again. He doesn't have to be guided in this time, his master gaping enough that he can slide back in with ease. His softening dick quickly gets hard again, plowing up into and prominently pushing his gut out. Troist's hand is at his groin, playing with his balls and thumbing over the base of his shaft. His other hand is out in front of him, holding him up. He's moaning with every movement, loud with no regard for who can hear him. He can better feel his prostate being pushed against at this angle, the horse's cock pulling up, back against that sensitive organ. He rocks himself in time with Alasdair's movements, cooing about how much he enjoys these sessions, loves being stretched out and filled like this, wishes they could do this more often. The horse bends his neck down, greeted with a hand brushing over his nose and down to his cheek, gently taking hold of his bridle. Troist holds himself up on it, his body quivering as he strokes himself. He's panting, mouth hanging open as moans cut through his breathing. This position limits how deep the beast can go, but his master is obviously enjoying it. He can feel his previous load pooling at the head of his cock, some beginning to trickle out as he moves. It begins to puddle on the floor beneath them, one sticky drop after another. Alasdair notices the man's grip loosening, his hand falling back to the blanket and shakily propping him up. His thighs are quaking as he murmurs something about being close, precum dripping from his dick. The stallion picks up the pace, trying not to outlast Troist too much, relieved when he feels himself approaching climax as well. The human is a mere few thrusts away from the edge, ejaculating hard on a well-angled push, choking out a loud moan. His cock is pulsating in his hand, twitching with each rope of cum pouring out, his whole body shaking. Alasdair soon follows suit, thrusting hard when he starts pumping out more thick, hot semen. He stays still a bit after he's done with his load, taking in the moment, listening to his master's breathing and his own. He pulls out as he's going soft, taking a step back to watch as his cum drips from Troist's gaping ass, the man barely able to hold himself up.

The steed plods his way into the stall nearest to where his master is, watching him gather himself after being objectively wrecked. He tests his legs after a few minutes, has a wobbly start but manages to find his footing. Awkwardly making his way over to the hose in the corner, he lazily rinses himself off before grabbing a fresh blanket and walking back to his kelpie. Alasdair lays down, Troist wrapping the blanket around himself before curling up between his legs, resting himself on the beast's body. The steed watches as exhaustion takes him over, luring him into a deep sleep.


End file.
